Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Venezuela and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jawbox to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Arthur Verocai,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
Quantec,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
The Gun Club,
The Blackbyrds,
Reagan Youth,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Warren Ellis,
Loose Ends,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
China Crisis,
The Toasters,
T.S.O.L.,
Warsaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gap Band,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Underground Resistance,
New York Dolls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chrome,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aaron Thompson,
Black Flag,
The Fall,
Donald Byrd,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
Amon Düül II,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ossler,
Mandrill,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.